Taking It All Away
by LoveHGSS
Summary: Bella's had a rough time of things, and has turned to drinking. Jasper appears after one of their mutual friends call, and he comes to fix her. Very AU and OOC. All human, not really compliant with any of the books. M for drinking and sexual content.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - I own nothing related to Twilight, it all belongs to Stephenie Meyer and company. Which is fine, I'll just take the actor who plays Jasper since I can't have the fictional one. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Summary - Bella's had a rough time of things, and has turned to drinking. Jasper appears after one of their mutual friends call, and he comes to fix her. Very AU and OOC. All human, not really compliant with any of the books. So, I'm basically taking Stephenie Meyer's characters and using them however I want in my own story. Okay? Okay!

The _biggest_ thank you to my wonderful, extraordinary, super-duper, Carlizzle Fo Shizzle, beta reader, Crystie. Love ya, Fancypants!

**Warning - 18 and over only, please. Alcoholism, drinking, language, some violence.**

_**Bella's POV**_

Rum.

Spiced rum.

It had started with a one-night extravaganza of craziness, all the girls at the bar receiving half off for their drinks. I had drank and drank and drank, not feeling the effects as fast as my cohorts. Even though my glasses of rum and some unnamed soda were much stronger, it still took me nearly twice as much to get as drunk as they did. Rose was the first to go, her inhibitions lowering, and she ended up on top of one of the many tables within the bar, her shirt somehow disappearing from her body. Jessica had joined her soon after, and they began dancing, rubbing their unclothed tops together, much to the pleasure of the men who filed in for just such debauchery on 'Ladies Night'.

Alcohol had become my best friend after that insane night. It made me blank, incoherent to any previous pain I had felt. It took away my control, which I typically held so tightly to. No one really noticed when I first started drinking, because I always did it by myself. I was always a touchy-feely drunk, and I preferred to just sit on my sofa and watch pointless reality television. I'd veg out, not really paying attention to the TV as the rich bitches whined about how bitterly unfair their lives were.

After awhile, the soda in my mixed drinks lessened, and I had taken to just drinking it straight from the bottle. I bought seven pints every Saturday, just to get me through the week. I knew it made more sense to just buy a larger-sized bottle, but it never tasted the same coming from a cup, and it was easier to ration. I never drank in the morning or midday, not even in the evenings really; I waited until nearly ten at night to start drinking my heavenly rum. It was an expensive habit, I'll admit, but my job as a secretary to the governor of Washington paid me more than enough to cover my lifestyle.

It had been going on for months and months, probably over a year, but I hadn't really been keeping track. All I knew was that I felt better than I had ever felt before. Not since Edward, not since Charlie died, not since I left Forks. I suppose that leaving Forks was a step in the right direction, leaving the constant reminder of things that hurt behind me. But that didn't stop my thoughts; it didn't stop my nightmares. The rum did, though. The rum sated my mind and made me tired enough to sleep through the night without haunting dreams of Edward leaving me for some other woman, for Charlie dying by the hand of a deranged murderer he had nearly taken off the streets.

So, there I sat, sitting on my expensive black leather loveseat, sipping the caramel colored numbing solution, flipping through the blurry channels on my ridiculously large flat-screen until I heard high-pitched voices. I left it there, watching as people moved in and out of focus the more I drank. My eyelids started to feel heavier, so I drank faster, wanting to create a kind of blitz effect on my mind. Just as I drank the last drop, my throat burning and my stomach warm, the bottle fell from my hand as my eyes slid shut, the liquor effectively putting me into a dreamless sleep.

And then it was Saturday again. I was anxious to get to the liquor store, but I wanted to wait until just before they were closing, the time I always went in. Mark, the usual Saturday closer, would lock the doors and talk to me for awhile, but I rarely had much to say back. He somehow knew I didn't like buying my lifeline when other people were around. It's wasn't as though I was ashamed, I just preferred to be alone in everything that involved my habit. But Mark understood - he saw people like me every day, but he never tried to stop me, never tried to deny my sale, as he would have with anyone else.

When I finally, _finally_, made it to my store of choice, I parked my car next to Mark's black Jeep and killed the engine. I tried to slow my racing pulse, knowing it was because I hadn't drank since last night - and that was only half a bottle, less than my norm. I had taken that first half down on Thursday, as it had been a hectic day, both Edward and Charlie on my mind a lot.

As I entered the store, I plastered a smile on my face, looking for Mark behind the counter in the middle of the store. He was an attractive guy, about 6'1 with dark blonde hair that whispered along the tops of his ears, dark brown eyes and lots of freckles along his cheeks. He was only thirty, but he was married to my co-worker/friend Paula, and they had five young children, who were absolutely adorable, and extremely well behaved.

I liked Paula, she was sweet and kind and never asked me about my drinking, although I was positive Mark had to of told her. They always invited me over when they'd have a barbeque, which was quite often, and Mark would always have a drink waiting for me in my usual spot at the picnic table out back whenever I agreed to go. Whether or not I went always depended on how late it would run, and I noticed more and more that they started them earlier and earlier, and I had a feeling they did it because of me. It was sweet, and it made me feel welcomed and accepted, but it also made me feel guilty.

Once I saw Mark behind the counter, he shook his head at me, his eyes wide. Usually, that look meant that someone else was in the store, but the wideness of his eyes told me it was a male - the sex I tried my best to avoid. Having been deprived of my usual rations of rum, I didn't really care, but I decided to be patient. I shrugged, shaking my head. Mark gave me a sympathetic smile and nodded his head, his eyes averting to the left, telling me where the other shopper was, which was, of course, just where I was planning on going. I milled around by the front, hiding myself with the aisles of wine, wrinkling my nose at the champagne.

After what felt like hours, which had really been minutes, I heard Mark cough, indicating the shopper was checking out. I all but ran to my section of the store, hastily grabbing eight bottles off the shelf. I decided to grab an extra one just in case I had a week like this past one - I really didn't want to feel so desperate again. Just as another cough rang through the store, I heard quiet footsteps behind me.

"Bella?"

I nearly dropped my loot, but just barely managed to stay steady on my feet. I knew that voice. Above any others, I knew that one. I didn't want to turn around, I just wanted to run and never look back. I knew Mark would understand, that he would just run my tab and wait for me to come back the next day to pay for my purchases. But I couldn't move, I couldn't even breathe. As if being pulled by a magnet, I turned.

And there he stood, in all his fucking glory. Edward Cullen, my high school sweetheart who had effectively ripped my heart out by sleeping with one of my best friends. Just after Charlie died, I'd heard that she had gotten pregnant and they had married, and that only added fuel to my depression. He stood just over six-foot, his dark hair still sticking up in manicured spikes, his dark green eyes penetrating my brown ones.

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out. My fight or flight instinct kicked in, and I decided on the latter option. I power-walked around Edward, my eyes to the floor. I ran to the counter and Mark already had the register open, a brown bag sitting on top of the counter. I shoved the bottles into the bag and handed Mark a few bills, muttering something about adding on another bottle. Mark quirked his eyebrow, but said nothing, and handed me back a few dollars. I tried to smile and then I turned, making a beeline for the door.

"Bella!"

I didn't turn around; I didn't want to see his traitorous face or his beautiful eyes again.

"Hey, asshole!" I heard Mark shout. "If she don't want to talk to you, she don't got to!"

I heard Edward quicken his pace, and so did I.

"Bella! Stop!" he shouted at me just as I reached the door. "Bella! I want to talk to you, damn it!"

"Leave me alone!" I yelled.

I ripped the door open and ran through it, only to connect with a tall, hard body. My bag slipped from my hands and the contents shattered when they hit the concrete. My legs gave out on me, the emotions running through me too much to comprehend, and I just caved. Strong arms wrapped around me, keeping me from hitting the ground. Choking sobs wracked my body, and I couldn't find it in me to stop them.

"Bella!"

The voice of Edward reignited my mind and I tried to break free of the man who was holding me up, but his arms didn't budge. I eventually stopped fighting, knowing there was nothing else I could do.

"Stay," the man holding me said. His voice was quiet, for my ears only, but it was so strong and commanding that, even as he released me, I listened.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

I turned around to see the back of my rescuer striding toward Edward, whose eyes were wide with fright. My rescuer was wearing a dark blue dress shirt and black jeans, his frame reaching at least three inches above Edward's, long blonde curls falling gracefully to his shoulders. I gasped as I realized who he was.

"What do you want, Jasper?" Edward asked, his voice confident but his face worried.

Jasper, my lifelong best friend who I had been avoiding for the better part of a decade, didn't reply. Instead, he strode straight to Edward, who was slowly backing up, and punched him square in the jaw, dropping him to the ground.

"Hey!" Mark shouted. "Take it _outside_! Bella, get over here… _now_."

I shook my head, too terrified to move. Jasper's bright blue-green eyes met mine as he turned around. I stood there, shaking from head to toe, my feet becoming wet from the spilled rum as it pooled around my flip-flops.

"Bella," Jasper whispered, a mixture of pain and relief flooding his features.

"Jasper, what the _fuck_?" Edward asked, sounding dazed and holding a hand against the right side of his face.

"_OUTSIDE_!" Mark bellowed, looking frantically between Jasper, Edward, and me. "Isabella Swan, get your ass over here _now_!"

"I've got her," Jasper spoke up.

"And who the _fuck_ are you?" Mark asked.

"An old friend," he said, not taking his eyes away from mine.

"And who is this?" Mark asked, gesturing to Edward, whose lip was now obviously bleeding, his eyes glassy.

"My ex-fiancée's husband, and Bella's ex-boyfriend," he explained, his jaw clenching.

"Oh," Mark said. "Well, if you'd be so kind, please do not make my store into a boxing ring."

"Yes, sir," Jasper said, walking back over to me and looking at my feet. "Party?"

"Yes," I said instantly.

"What did you have?" he asked.

Mark spoke up before I could. "Eight bottles of Captain."

"I'll replace them," Jasper said with a smirk, starting to walk back towards the liquor coolers.

"I got 'em," Mark said, pulling a brown bag from underneath the counter and 'accidentally' hitting Edward in the stomach with his shoe as he came around to hand off the bag.

"Eight of them?" I asked anxiously.

"Nine, actually," he said with a chuckle. "Paula told me you had a rough week at the office, so I figured it'd be a niner. You two get out of here, I'll clean this up."

I smiled gratefully and Jasper took the bag. "Come on," he said. He turned back to Mark and nodded to him. "Thanks."

"Hey!" Mark called after us. Jasper and I turned. "Jasper, right?"

Jasper walked the distance back to Mark and rearranged the bag so he could hold out his hand. "Jasper Whitlock."

"Mark Coltrane," he said, shaking Jasper's hand.

"Don't worry," Jasper said just as Mark was opening his mouth. "I won't let anything bad happen to her."

Mark looked at me, his eyebrow raised, and I nodded my head in confirmation. "Good," Mark said huffily, "because it won't end pretty if you do, kid."

"Yes, sir," Jasper said again, gently smacking Mark on the arm. "Have a good night."

"You, too," Mark said, looking dazed by Jasper's gentlemanly mannerisms. "See you next week, Bells."

"Bye, Mark!" I shouted over my shoulder as Jasper ushered me out the door.

"'See you next week'?" Jasper asked as we made it to my blue Prius.

I shrugged. "I go in every Saturday."

Jasper stopped just as we reached the driver side door and he leaned against it, preventing me from opening it. "Why?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. "You throw that many parties?"

I sighed. "Something like that, Jasper," I said, looking up to meet his eyes.

"Don't you lie to me, Isabella," he said, his teeth clenching.

"What are you doing here, Jasper?" I asked, avoiding the question.

"Rosalie called me," he said, and I blanched.

"Why?" I asked, closing my eyes as my voice broke.

"Because she loves you," he said quietly, reaching out and lightly grabbing my forearm. "Because we're both worried about you." He pulled on my arm, drawing me closer. "Because I've missed you and was just waiting for an excuse to come and see you."

Tears pooled in my eyes as I looked up at my previous best friend, and I noticed how much older he had gotten. He was the same, but somehow different. He had more lines in his face, a few extra crinkles around the beautiful features I had known so well. He looked tired, with circles beneath his eyes. He had worry lines in his forehead, and that made _me_ worried. What would Jasper have to worry about so much? And then I realized I'd have no idea… because I hadn't talked to him in years. Tears fell down my face as I realized just how horrible I'd been to him.

Jasper, the kid who I used to push around in the sandbox in kindergarten, the one whose shoulder I cried on when Edward left, the one who held my hand and forced me to eat after Charlie's funeral – I'd just thrown him aside. He was the one who I'd had to comfort, when Alice had left him for Edward, when his brother died in a terrible train accident. We had fallen apart in each other's arms so many times I'd lost count. And I had just left him… I'd left him all alone in that small town with no other friends because I couldn't handle my pain. I'd abandoned the only person who tried to help me.

"I'm so sorry," I whispered, a large pang ripping through my heart.

"Shh," he whispered, pulling me close enough to put his arm around my shoulders. "Don't apologize, Bella, I knew you needed space. I just wish it would have been you who had called me, not Rosalie. I've been waiting for that call for years."

I molded myself against him, letting my head rest against his hard chest. "You've gotten taller," I said, not really wanting to relive the past.

He laughed and rested his forehead against the top of my head. "I think it's just been six years since you've seen me, because I haven't grown an inch."

"Maybe I'm shrinking," I said with a sigh.

He chuckled, shaking his head against mine. "Ah, yes, how I have missed your silly humor, B-Bear."

I laughed, rolling my eyes at the nickname he'd given me some twenty years ago. I finally wrapped my arms around his waist, wedging one between his back and the car, holding him tightly to me. "I've missed you too, Razzle-Jazzle."

"Mmmm, there's my Bella-Bear," he whispered, his arm tightening around my shoulders. "Even if she is dressed very oddly."

"What's wrong with my outfit?" I asked, feeling suddenly self-conscious in my fitted black t-shirt and knee-length denim skirt.

Jasper chuckled and rested his head on top of mine. "It's just… different, I guess. I'm not used to you in skirts. It's not a bad thing… just a different thing."

I didn't have a reply.

We stood like that for what seemed like hours, Jasper holding me tightly as I dizzied myself with his smell, which was thankfully still the same - sandalwood and cupcakes. Don't ask me how that's possible, but that's what it was… sugar and spice, I always told him. Only once we heard commotion coming from the inside of the store did we pull away from each other, but not by much. I was planning on stepping away from him, but I'd missed him much too much to be too far.

"So," he said, looking down at me, "am I invited to this party?"

"Oh, well, uh," I stuttered, trying to think up some lie. "I think I'm cancelling it. It's getting late."

Jasper raised an eyebrow, and gave me a look that told me he knew I was lying. "Well, you'll have to point me in the direction of a hotel, because I didn't really stop to book one when Rose called."

"You could stay with me," I said, but then shut my mouth. I hadn't meant to blurt that out, it just sort of happened.

He smiled his typical crooked smile and his face lit up. "Brilliant idea!" he said enthusiastically. "Lead the way, Captain."

I blushed, knowing he was making fun of my drink of choice, as it had always been his, too. I suddenly realized that I had never liked the spiced rum until I had moved. Perhaps subconsciously I was thinking of Jasper, the person who I had always viewed as my real other half - like twins separated at birth. I smiled and stood on my toes to kiss his cheek. He smiled at me again before walking to the car next to mine, my liquor still firmly held in his arm.

Shit.

My hands shook as I started the engine, and I willed them to stop, but it wasn't enough. The entire way back to my apartment I wondered if it was possible to lose Jasper in the heavy traffic, to make an illegal U-turn and floor it back to the store before Mark left. But Jasper stayed right on my tail the whole way – never once did I see the headlights stray further back than a foot or two. By the time we reached my apartment, I was sweating. I was anxious and shaky, and I just put my head against the steering wheel when I parked in my usual spot, Jasper's Mustang pulling in to my left. There was a light tap at my window and I jumped.

"Bells?"

It was Jasper, of course. Who else? I cut the engine and took a few deep breaths through my nose, as I was unable to unclench my jaw. I waited until he backed up a little to open my door, and I was relieved to see he still had my bag tucked beneath his arm. He smiled at me, but I didn't really pay him too much attention; I was too anxious.

"So," he said as we made our way through the massive front doors of my apartment building, "are you going to say anything, or am I just going to be talking to myself all night?"

I laughed nervously and walked to the elevator, my foot tapping impatiently. "Quit whining, Jasper," I said, trying to make my tone joking.

He whistled through his teeth. "Who pissed in _your_ cornflakes this morning?"

I shot him a look, and his face sobered.

"Bells," he whispered, reaching out to touch me again, but I dodged him, stepping into the opening doors of the elevator.

"Are you coming?" I asked, putting my hand against the frame to keep the doors from closing.

"I suppose," he said, his eyebrows coming together.

He stepped into the elevator and I hit the fifteenth floor button, chewing on my lip as the lift moved. I power-walked down the hall, my hand still shaking slightly as I put the key into the deadbolt, turning it before thrusting open the door.

"Pretty swanky place," he commented as he followed me in.

I shrugged, quite used to the large three bedroom apartment with high ceilings and large windows overlooking the city. I kicked off my shoes and locked my door after Jasper moved further into the apartment.

"Great view," he said, glancing past the living room and into the dining room, which had the biggest window in my apartment.

"That's the perks of living on the top floor," I mumbled.

"Alright," Jasper said, turning towards me, his eyes narrowed, "what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Excuse me?" I asked, shocked at his hard tone.

"You go from scared to emotional to funny to tenser than I've ever seen you all within twenty minutes," he said. "What is wrong?"

I spluttered for a moment, knowing he was completely right, but _I_ wasn't even sure why I was acting the way I was. I sighed.

"I don't know, Jasper," I said, shaking my head and not looking him in the eyes. "It's just been a long week, that's all."

"So I've heard," he muttered, kicking off his own shoes, which I noticed were a pair of black cowboy boots – some things never change. I was going to make a snappy retort, but Jasper spoke before I could. "Want a drink?"

I wanted to scream 'yes', and then tell him he couldn't have any of my liquid sunshine, but I reminded myself I had nine whole bottles. "Sure," I replied, trying to sound nonchalant. "Cups are in the cabinet above the dishwasher."

"Ooooh," he said, "you have a _dishwasher_?"

I laughed, really laughed. "Yeah, I know, right? After hand washing dishes for twenty-two years, it was a nice change. It was the deciding factor between this place and some fancy-ass condo down the road."

"No dishwasher in the condo?" he asked.

"No, there was, but this place was about four hundred less a month," I explained.

Jasper smiled that brilliant white smile at me and sauntered off into the kitchen, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I sat on my black leather love seat and put my feet up on my glass coffee table, trying not to have an anxiety attack. I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose, telling myself Jasper would be coming with my drink _very _soon.

"Soda?" he asked.

"What?"

"Soda," he repeated.

"What about it?" I asked, confused. "It should be in the fridge."

Jasper chuckled. "How much of it do you want?"

"Not much," I replied instantly, and I was actually proud I hadn't said 'none'.

I heard Jazz rummage around in the kitchen for another minute, and I looked up when he walked into the living room. He held up a glass, and I nearly jumped out of my seat to hug him. It was a massive glass cup, the color telling me that there was _very_ little soda in it. He handed me the cup and I thought I'd break it, my grip around the sweating glass causing my knuckles to turn white as I waited for Jasper to sit down with his own glass that was only a little darker than my own. Jasper sat down, not on one of my other three matching couches or chairs, but right next me, our upper arms touching.

"Cheers," he said, holding his glass out.

"Cheers," I repeated, clinking my glass to his before taking a sip.

_Oh, God!_ I always love that first sip the most; it sends a sweet-burning fire down my throat, my chest and stomach feeling warmed and sated. It took all my control not to chug the entire cup down and go back for more. Instead, I kept up with Jasper, which was alright, because he drank his down fairly quickly.

"Jesus, kid," he coughed as he polished off the last of his drink and looked over to me just as I was finishing off the last of mine. "You used to get wasted just watching me drink."

I chuckled, feeling much, _much_ better with nearly half a bottle in me. "I'm not a kid anymore, Jazz," I reminded him.

Jasper sighed and shook his head. "That's true, Bella… that's true. So, want another one?"

Once again, instead of screaming 'yes', I shrugged. "Are you getting another one?"

"If you don't mind," he said, his eyes not quite meeting mine.

"Not at all," I said with a smile, nudging his arm and handing him my cup.

He smiled and kissed my head before going to the kitchen for round two.

_A/N – I know, I know, I know – I have unfinished stories but… This one won't leave me alone! I can't promise quick updates, but I'm still interested in hearing what you think! Please take two seconds out to review! Thank you!_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer - I own nothing related to Twilight, it all belongs to Stephenie Meyer and company. Which is fine, I'll just take the actor who plays Jasper since I can't have the fictional one. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and/or added this story to your favorites and/or alerts! Tons of love.

Giant 'thank you' to Crystie for the beta.

**Warning – 18 and over only, please. Explicit sexual content, drinking, brash language.**

_**Bella's POV**_

One hour and two and a half bottles later, Jasper and I were leaning against each other, laughing so hard tears were streaming down our faces.

"And, and, and, do you remember," I said through my hysterics, "the time Rose pantsed you in the middle of the cafeteria?"

Jasper roared with laughter, clutching his stomach. "Oh my God, yes! Mike Newton f-fell out of his seat an-and nearly cracked his head open!"

I hunched further over, the pain in my stomach rising. "They called you Gaspin' Jaspin' for _months_!"

He snorted before leaning heavily against me, his body shaking with mirth. "God, I've missed you," he said between breaths.

"I've missed you, too," I said, sobering some at his non-humorous words.

We slowly came down from our laughter and he sat back, turning his head to me. I really had missed him; I missed his silliness, his deep voice, his ability to listen, his sea colored eyes… his five o'clock shadow… his lush, pink lips… his firm, hard body….

WHOA!

What?

Even through my alcohol-addled brain, I knew I was heading down a path in my mind that had never been traveled before. Jasper's like my brother – well, _was_ like my brother, my best friend. I'd always thought he was perhaps the most attractive man I had ever met, but… it used to gross me out when people asked if we were dating. And now I was looking at him like a piece of meat. A very delicious piece of meat.

"Bella?" Jasper asked, his deep voice making my eyes want to slide shut.

His eyes were on my face, sliding back and forth in their sockets and I knew he was searching for some sort of explanation for the change in my stare. Jasper knew me; even six years later, Jasper knew me. Those six years paled in comparison to the twenty years of friendship, of sharing our deepest darkest secrets, of deep conversation and horrid events we pulled each other through. I suddenly noticed his eyes looked darker, his pupils dilating, and I knew what was going to happen before it did. Those lips I had been watching so intently came closer and closer until they were pressed against mine, and I made no move to stop it.

Jasper and I had kissed before, many times actually, but it was always chaste, friendly. I think that's what he had intended, because he pulled back just after his lips whispered over mine, but I was having none of that. The fact that Jasper had been the closest thing to a brother I'd ever had fell away as I met his worried blue-green eyes. The next thing I knew, I was straddling his lap, my hands raking into his beautiful curly blonde hair, my lips slamming into his.

He was still for a moment, shocked I guess, but quickly caught on. His hands grasped my hips, drawing me closer, his lips pressing back into mine. Warmth spread through my body, from my head to my toes, and it was better than the drinks we had just consumed. That realization scared me, so I just held on tighter, pressing myself flush against him. A groan left him and he kissed me harder, his lips parting against mine and I followed suit, whimpering as his tongue plunged roughly between my teeth. It was the best taste in the world, Jasper's mouth; it was a flavor I wasn't used to mixed in with my rum of choice. It was like a drug… and I only wanted more.

I kissed him back just as forcefully, my tongue meeting his, and the battle for dominance began. It was a long, bumpy, winding road, but I held on for dear life, never wanting this feeling of heated euphoria to end. Jasper's arms wrapped around my waist and he pressed me harder against him, my crotch making contact with his and I could feel he was already hard beneath me. I moaned, loving the friction, and rocked my hips, smirking as he gasped. He held me tighter, trying to control my movements, but I ignored him, focusing on my slow pace of back and forth.

_What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?_

My brain wouldn't shut up, and I did my best to ignore it, but when Jasper let out a breathy moan as I unbuttoned his shirt, the voice became louder and louder. I shoved the voice away again just as I pushed Jasper's shirt open, my hands instantly running the length of his hard torso, smiling against his lips as he groaned. His hands left my hips and he sat forward, letting me take the shirt down his arms and throw it carelessly over my shoulder. His hands tugged at the bottom of my plain black shirt, yanking it up until I broke away from his God-sent lips, my arms flying up in the air as he dragged the shirt over my head.

_What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing? What are you doing?_

I shook my head from side to side, trying to resettle my long frazzled brown hair, but also to shake the voice out. Jasper's lips fell to my collarbone and he reached around me, fumbling with the clasp of my bra. I pushed his hands away after a moment and just took the damn thing off myself. I raked my hands into his hair again, pulling his head back and restarting our heated kiss, wasting no time in shoving my tongue into his warm mouth. His arms encircled my waist and he brought me flush against him, both of us moaning loudly as skin met skin.

_Fuck_, I thought as that warmth I had felt turned into pure fire when my breasts and stomach plastered against his torso. Jasper's hips rose off the couch slightly, causing my skirt to shift, leaving only presumably three things between me and what I suddenly wanted more than anything. I rotated my hips, groaning as his jeans roughly rubbed against my flimsy underwear. Jasper gasped against my lips and his hands once again went to my hips, pushing them away before pulling them back. I let him guide my movements, too occupied with the feeling to focus on anything else.

I whimpered in disapproval when Jasper pulled his mouth from mine, but I moaned appreciatively when his lips found my neck. He placed hurried, open-mouth kisses on my sensitive skin, and my hips ground against him of their own accord, the friction driving me crazy. I clutched his hair, pressing his head closer to my neck, needing to feel more. He seemed to understand and sucked a piece of my skin just below my ear into his mouth and his teeth sunk in. I all but screamed in ecstasy, a flash of light bursting from behind my eyes as liquid heat pooled between my thighs.

"Jasper," I rasped out.

He ignored me and continued to bite different areas of my neck, his tongue running over the spots to soothe them. His fingers dug into my hips and I tore at his hair, trying to pull him back but keep him there at the same time. After another few bites, he allowed me to guide his head back and his eyes met mine. Fuck.

"Bella?" he asked, and I could see his blue-green eyes were glazed over.

"Jasper," I breathed out, all our movements ceasing as the horrible realization I was dry-humping my best friend slammed me in the stomach.

"Fuck," he hissed, "I'm so fucking sorry."

"I just… I…," I stuttered, feeling much more sober.

"Just don't… don't apologize to me," he panted.

"You're drunk, and I'm taking advantage of you," I pointed out.

"Sweetheart, I'm not drunk," he said, the side of his lips lifting into a mocking smirk. "And neither are you."

Before I had time to protest, his lips were on mine again, and I instantly forgot what we were arguing about. All too soon, he pulled away.

"Fuck," he said again, closing his eyes. "This is wrong."

I nodded. "You were my best friend, my brother," I said in a quiet voice, feeling suddenly disgusted, not about what had happened, but the fact that I had probably just ruined the best thing I had ever had – my friendship with Jasper.

"God damn it, Bella," he growled. "It's been six fucking years since I've seen you, but I think we're adult enough to know that sometimes our sexual urges don't care who the person is."

I blinked a few times, feeling stupid. "So," I said slowly, anger rising in me, "you didn't care that it was me? It was just the fact that I have a vagina and I was willing?"

Jasper finally opened his eyes, looking aghast. "I don't know what the hell is happening right now, but I'll be damned if that's what you think. I've never thought about you like this until now, no, but I knew damn well it was you I was kissing and undressing."

I stared at him, that heat rising back up as his eyes bored into mine. "So why did you stop then?" I asked.

"I didn't," he said, his eyebrows coming together. "You did."

Well, with that out of the way, I leaned closer to him, letting him know my intentions, but wanting them to be returned. He searched my face for only a second before crushing my lips with his. We picked up as if we'd never left off, my hands still tangled within his mop of curls, his hands still gripping my hips and guiding them back and forth over his obvious arousal. It slowly became too much and I pulled away from his mouth, sliding back on his lap and dragging my hands down the hard plains of his chest and stomach.

"Bella," he groaned as I began undoing his belt buckle.

"Shut up," I muttered, getting the belt apart and going for the button to his jeans.

"Wait, wait, wait," he pleaded, but I didn't listen. "Are you seeing anyone?"

I snorted. "Would it matter?"

"Yes," he said, trying to wiggle his hips out of my grasp.

"No," I said. "You?"

"No," he said, grabbing my wrists. "Look, I want this… so bad… but I need to know you do too."

I met his eyes and I relaxed instantly, something that I was not surprised by. "Are you asking me if I'll regret this in the morning?"

"No," he said with a laugh, "I'm sure we probably both will, but I'm not worried about that right now. We'll get past it, or ignore it, or _something_. I need to know that you aren't just doing this because you're buzzed up and horny."

I snorted, ever amused by Jasper's bluntness. I decided to take a more 'Jasper' approach. "Just shut up and fuck me, Jazz."

The look on his face was _priceless_. He was right, though; we'd both probably regret it, but we knew each other well enough that'd we'd be able to cope. But I didn't think much on that, because Jasper was covering my mouth again, his hands letting mine go, and they instantly went back to their task. Once I had his jeans undone, I broke the kiss and rose up on my knees. Our eyes met again and he lifted off the couch, sliding both his pants and boxers down, and I nearly fainted when I saw what was hidden beneath.

"Holy shit," I breathed out, not able to keep it in.

Jasper sat back down as he used his feet to completely remove the garments from his body, and I was surprised to see he was blushing. His… uh… manhood was the largest I had ever seen; not that I had very much to compare it to, but it couldn't have been just average. It was thick and long and fully erect, and I wanted nothing more than to feel it inside me. I smiled widely and leaned in to kiss him again, my hands cupping his jaw as I sucked his bottom lip into my mouth.

I moaned loudly as his hands slid up my thighs, pulling my skirt up higher and higher. I heard his breathing increase as his fingers came in contact with the lacy underwear I was wearing. I felt his hands ball into fists, my panties within his grasp, and he pulled, hard. I pulled back and gasped as my underwear tore, Jasper pulling them roughly away, not even looking at them as he tossed the pieces aside.

"Tell me you want this, Isabella," he growled, his hand going to the back of my neck and pulling me down, my lips inches away from his.

"I want this," I moaned, turned on by Jasper's uncharacteristic roughness. "I want this so fucking badly, Jasper."

"Good girl," he whispered before crashing me down to meet his lips.

He dominated my mouth, rough and hard, his tongue darting between my teeth and demanding submission, which I gave over willingly. I wasn't used to Jasper being so… forceful, but sweet mercy did I love it. I loved Jasper taking charge, pulling me closer and kissing me more frantically. His hand not on my neck began trailing up and down my thigh, stopping just short of the place I wanted him to touch. I rocked my hips, begging. His fingers dug into my thigh, and I couldn't help but moan into his mouth. Jasper's hands went to the back of my skirt, and I used all my strength to pull back from his mouth.

"Just leave it on," I panted. "Please, Jasper, I just need you."

Jasper groaned and I shifted myself a little, giving him room to slide down. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and I let out a breathy moan as his fingers, which had been driving me crazy, finally, _finally_, touched me where I had wanted him the most. He moved slowly, his fingertips gently skimming my clean-shaven womanhood. I rocked my hips again, and I was not disappointed when Jasper slid his fingers between my already-moist folds, a loud gasp leaving me as I realized just how aroused I was.

"Christ, Bella," Jasper groaned, his eyes shutting.

"What's wrong?" I asked, suddenly worried.

"You're so fucking _wet_."

The huskiness of his voice just made me hotter, and I had to bite my lip to keep the scream threatening to leave my throat as his fingers teased me, going back and forth from my entrance to my aching bud of nerves and back. He taunted me, putting pressure on my clit with every passing, but his fingers barely whispered over my entrance, and he would stop completely if I moved. I tired of his game and boldly put my hand between us, easily finding his arousal.

"Fuck," he hissed as I grasped him.

I marveled at the hardness, my hand barely able to completely wrap around his girth. I smirked and gripped him tighter, loving the way his breath came out in sharp pants. He lightly pinched my clit, causing me to moan, and I stroked him, slowly, torturously. We found a murderous rhythm, our eyes locking in determination, trying to see which one would give first. I'm not sad to say I caved first, but I had good reasons. When I brushed my thumb over his tip, he sucked in a breath and not-so-gently inserted a finger into me.

After that, everything happened in a frantic yet passionate blur. Jasper brought me back down for another drugging kiss and his finger moved quickly in and out, my hand barely able to keep up with his movements. I kissed him deeply and removed my hand, propping myself up higher on my knees, trying to tell him I couldn't take his ministrations any longer.

"Eager?" he asked between kisses.

I growled and kissed him harder, pressing my lower half closer to him. He must have taken it as a 'yes', because his finger left me, and I felt something much bigger lining up with my entrance. We paused, our lips still touching, our mouths open, both of us panting heavily as he scooted down just a little further. His hand slid down off my neck, running over my chest and brushing against my puckered nipple before settling on my hip.

"Relax," he breathed out, and I complied instantly.

I focused on relaxing my muscles, knowing he was much bigger than I was used to – not to mention the fact that I hadn't had sex in, oh… at least four years, possibly longer. His hand tightened on my hip and he pressed me down.

"Holy shit," I ground out as I felt his tip easily slide into me.

"_Fuck_," he moaned, now using both hands to gently press me further down.

And _oh, God_, did it feel fucking amazing. The feel of Jasper's hard tool slowly stretching me sent a roaring fire throughout my entire body, and I was unable to suppress the shudder that ran down my spine at the sheer pleasure of it. Jasper's eyes were shut tight, his jaw clenching as he finally hit bottom. We stayed motionless, the only movements were our chests rising and falling in sync. I took that time to memorize the euphoric feel of Jasper seated deeply within me. I had never felt so full, so wet, so turned on.

"Easy, Bella," Jasper gasped out as I purposefully clenched my lower muscles around his hardness. "It's been a long, _long_ time since I've done this."

The pleading tone in his voice left me unable to toy with him as I had planned. Instead, I pressed my lips to his tenderly, not able to stay still, but not wanting to deny his request. He kissed me back, our tongues sliding along each other's in a slow dance. Our kiss eventually took on a more passionate nature and Jasper's hands tightened on my hips, and I took that as a sign to move. My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I let him guide me up his impressive length before he met me halfway on the way back down.

Jasper set a slow pace, and I loved being able to feel every blissful inch of him sliding in and out of me. I put my hands to the back of the couch, using it as support, and whimpered as my chest rubbed against his. Jasper's hands trailed along every centimeter of my skin he could reach, as I needed no more guidance. He cupped my breasts, massaging the mounds before pinching my nipples in turn, and I unconsciously sped up. He groaned and grabbed my hips again, forcing me to stop completely just as I rose up his length again.

"Jazz," I started, but I was cut off as Jasper slammed my hips down, meeting me halfway with a brutal thrust.

"So… fucking… _tight_," he gasped out with each rough, long thrust he made into my body.

He controlled me easily, my mind too hazy and my body too tingly. I groaned in frustration as he stopped again, buried deeply within me. He held me tightly against him and scooted forward, and I thought he was going to lay me on the carpet for a moment.

"Legs around me," he said, quiet but commanding.

"Yes, sir," I said with a smirk.

I felt Jasper's body shaking with quiet laughter, but I obliged him. It was a little awkward, trying to get my legs around him, but Jasper pushed me back a little, showing more of my naked torso, which he took in hungrily. I leaned back further, smirking as his eyes locked onto my breasts as I straightened my legs before hooking them around his back. Just when my ankles locked, Jasper yanked me back up and I cried out as I felt him go even more deeply inside me than before.

"Holy fuck, Bella," Jasper panted.

I nodded in agreement, but his parted lips were just too tempting to do anything other than kiss him again. He guided me fast and hard, our kiss being disrupted time and time again as our breathing picked up. I threw my head back only after a moment, a wave of pleasure racking my body. Jasper took advantage of the situation, ducking his head and hurriedly taking one of my nipples into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the puckered bud.

"Oh, Jasper," I cried out.

His breath came out in sharp exhales against my skin and I felt an electricity run through my veins before it pooled in my stomach. I clutched his shoulders for support and rode him faster, knowing I was close. Jasper sat up again and pulled my heated torso to his own, his hands gripping my hips, driving me harder, faster.

"Bella," he gasped out, and I felt his stomach tightening against my own.

"Jasper," I breathed, feeling him hit my cervix over and over and _over_.

"Come on, Bells, come for me," he rasped. "I'm so fucking close, baby; I need to feel those tight, soaked walls clamp around me. I want to feel you come so fucking bad, Bella."

Jasper's lips slammed into mine, muffling the scream that left my throat as his words threw me over the edge of pure bliss. Stars burst at the corners of my eyes and my body froze for a second before I began shuddering with the power of my orgasm. I was on fire, and I tried to tell Jasper this, but his tongue plundered my mouth, never breaking the overwhelming pace. Just as I thought I'd pass out from the sheer ecstasy of it, I felt Jasper's body tighten against mine and he made a few short, deep thrusts before his body convulsed, and I felt him release deeply inside me.

Jasper tore his lips from mine, both of us heaving in large breaths and putting our foreheads to the other's shoulder. Small aftershocks continued to take our bodies, and we held each other close, the feel of skin on skin still sending shivers down my spine. After about twenty minutes, Jasper turned his head and placed small kisses on my neck, sweet and innocent, but I felt that desire spike back up.

"Jasper," I breathed.

"You're amazing," he whispered, continuing to pepper my neck with kisses.

"Mmm, you're not so bad yourself," I mumbled, tilting my head to the side to give him better access.

He chuckled and bit into my skin, causing me to moan as that heat began pooling in my stomach. "So fucking _responsive_," he groaned.

I gasped as he moved beneath me, his slackened member that was still inside me coming back to life. "Jazz," I moaned as his hand trailed my side, the hand on my hip slowly guiding me to rock back and forth.

He didn't respond. Instead, he pulled back just enough to press his lips to mine, and I could tell he was just as ready for round two as I was.

It was going to be a _long_ night.

_A/N – Please take just a second out to review! Thank you!_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer - I own nothing related to Twilight, it all belongs to Stephenie Meyer and company. Which is fine, I'll just take the actor who plays Jasper since I can't have the fictional one. I make no money from this fanfiction.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed and/or added this story to your favorites and/or alerts! Tons of love.

Giant 'thank you' to Crystie for the beta.

**Warning – 18 and over only, please. Explicit sexual content, drinking, brash language.**

I woke up, lying on my side the next morning and instantly threw my arm over my eyes – it was bright. I stretched out, cracking my ankles, groaning as my leg muscles tensed up before relaxing. I felt deliciously sore, and I wondered why. My entire body froze as I suddenly recalled the many activities from the previous night.

Jasper and I had romped around the house, moving from the couch to the floor (which is where he finally demanded that I removed my skirt) to the table in the kitchen before round two was over. We had fallen asleep on the kitchen floor, but I had woken up about an hour later and woke Jazz up, who initiated round three. That took place in the hallway, the shower, the bathroom floor, and eventually my bed. I proudly started round four. Jasper had fallen asleep, sprawled out naked on top of my covers. I watched him for awhile, turning myself on as I took in his nude body, his curls haloed around his head, his gorgeous, pouty lips.

I had scared him a little, because he had woken up with my lips wrapped around his growing erection, but he caught on soon enough. We went slowly that time, taking time to enjoy every inch of each other before Jasper finally covered my body with his own. Our touches turned to caresses, our frantic kisses tender and soft. He looked me in the eyes as he entered me, and I didn't look away from his blue-green irises until well after we were both finished. I had stroked his cheek, brushed his hair from his face, marveled at the contours of his back as I ran my hands up and down it.

I had wanted to scream at him, to tell him I'd missed him, that I was sorry, that I'd give every drop of rum in the world to just keep him for another night. With that shocking realization came another, scarier one – Jasper and I were making love, not humping like frantic, needy rabbits. I had pushed that from my mind immediately, not wanting to even fathom the repercussions of our actions. Sex was one thing; Jasper and I could explain away fucking, but not what we were doing. It was sensual and sweet, slow and melodic, and I had never felt more needed, more satisfied.

After what seemed like hours, I had finally reached my peak, and I brought Jasper over with me. I wanted to cry when he whispered my name as he came deeply within me. The _way_ he said my name sounded like how a lover would, so soft and caressingly. We had fallen asleep soon after, me wrapped in Jasper's strong embrace. There had been no nightmares, no waking up screaming to an empty apartment. I'd had my usual night's ration of rum, but I was more than sober by the time I had fallen asleep. It was the first time in over a year that I hadn't had a nightmare without the aid of my rum.

I jumped as I felt an arm heavily being thrown around me, and a warm body pressing against me. Jasper. I sighed, pretending to still be asleep, but as Jasper molded himself against my back, his face nuzzling into my neck, I could tell he was still sleeping. His breathing was heavy and even, and he was mumbling nonsensical things. I grabbed onto his arm, snuggling it into my stomach and I shut down my brain, just allowing myself to feel comforted in Jasper's arms.

About twenty minutes later, just as I was falling back asleep, I felt Jasper stir for a moment before he froze completely. My eyes shot open and I waited for the onslaught of awkwardness. I was shocked when Jasper didn't pull away; instead, he tightened his arm around me and I felt him hesitantly put his lips to my shoulder. He kissed my shoulder up to my neck, not in a sexual manner, but a sensual one.

"You awake?" he asked, his voice husky from sleep.

I thought about not answering, but decided he probably already knew I was awake anyway. "Yes," I said quietly. I cleared my throat.

"Good morning," he whispered, kissing my neck again.

"Good morning," I replied.

"Hungry?"

My stomach growled and we both chuckled. "I suppose that answers your question."

"Bells?" he asked.

"Yes?" I said, my heart racing, wondering if he was going to start right into the awkward conversation I knew we'd need to have… eventually.

"Would you do me the honor of going to breakfast with me?" he asked seriously, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

I laughed, relieved that it wasn't nearly as weird as I had assumed. "Well, kind sir, because you have asked so sweetly, I suppose I have no choice but to accept your offer," I said in a horrible English accent.

I felt Jasper shake with quiet laughter. "Alright, me lady," he said, his fake accent worse than mine. "How about ten more moments here, a shower, and then we may be on our merry way?"

I laughed. "You mean you aren't going to make me the famous Whitlock chocolate chip pancakes?" I pouted, dropping the accent.

"Perhaps tomorrow," he said with a yawn, shifting behind me for a minute before resting his cheek on my head.

I smiled, happy to hear he was at least staying for another day. My heart pounded within my chest when I began wondering how long he was actually going to be here. I didn't want him to leave, not ever, but I didn't exactly want him to stay, either. I didn't want him to see me drink every night, or to have to sneak it behind his back. But I pushed that away, deciding to just deal with things as they came, because I wanted to enjoy the feel of Jasper's naked body against my own for the next ten minutes.

Ten minutes turned into twenty, which turned into thirty, and finally into both of us falling asleep again. I woke up to Jasper's hand trailing my naked side. I was cuddled up against him, my head resting on his marvelous chest. I smiled and put my leg over his beneath the blue sheet that covered only our lower halves, snuggling deeper into the warm body that was just begging for attention. I felt Jasper chuckle quietly, his head turning and he took a deep breath through his nose, smelling my hair.

"Still smell like roses?" I asked quietly.

"Mmm, roses _and_ strawberries," he corrected. "Still the same Bella."

He nuzzled the top of my head and I began tracing random patterns along his toned stomach, loving the way he twitched when I would get too close to his sides – he was the most ticklish person I'd ever met. My hands itched to attack him, to make him squirm and roar with laughter, as I had done thousands of times when we were younger. He would always get mad at me, because he hated being tickled, especially because he couldn't torture me back – I wasn't ticklish _at all_. Well, unless of course you trailed your fingers very, very lightly just under my butt, but it didn't work through fabric. Not to mention, I'd never exactly told Jasper that.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly, his hand still leaving a heated trail up and down my side.

"How badly I want to tickle you," I said with a laugh.

Jasper tensed instantly. "Please don't," he breathed. "You know I hate that shit."

I laughed. "I won't," I said with a dramatic sigh. "But I really, _really_ want to."

Jasper growled lowly. "You do that and I won't make Mama's chocolate cake tonight like I'd planned."

I looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Mama Whitlock's chocolate cake?" I asked breathlessly. "You wouldn't dare take that away from me."

"I would," he said, narrowing his eyes.

I chewed my lip, contemplating. I finally gave in with a sigh. "You're evil," I mumbled, putting my head back on his chest and pouting.

Jasper laughed, and I couldn't help but smile at the much-missed sound. "I knew you couldn't resist."

It was true; I _loved_ Jasper's mother's chocolate cake. I'd called her 'Mom' since I could remember, always having thought her more motherly than what my mother had been. Don't get me wrong, Renée tried, she did, but she was too into herself to be able to take care of me properly. It was alright, because she didn't realize she was doing it, and I only wanted her happiness, so I never said anything. Her and my dad had divorced when I was only one, and Charlie had gotten custody. I used to see my mom every weekend, and two days a week, but when she moved to Phoenix, I only went for two weeks out of the summer.

My mother visited sometimes, but she never stayed very long because her husband traveled a lot and she hated being away from him for too long. That's where Jasper's mom, Helen, came into play. She was there for me, from the day I scraped my knee at the park when I was three to the day I moved out of Forks. Dad and I used to go over for dinner all the time, because Charlie was really good friends, and coworkers, with Jazz's dad, John. That's how Jasper and I had met, when we were two, just after his dad had joined the force. I took to their family like a fish to water; it just felt natural, being in their kitchen or in the bedroom Helen had set up for me when I was five and refused to go home. I had stayed with them for about four days before I was finally ready to go home.

Jasper and I used to do sleepovers all the time, and Charlie always let Jasper sleep in my room on the floor, until we got older, of course. Even when we were teenagers, we still did sleepovers, staying up until midnight in one or the other's living rooms before we went to bed. Jasper would sleep on the pullout couch or I'd sleep in 'my room' at his house. Sometimes Jasper would have nightmares about his brother's death, and he'd come and lie down in my bed and let me hold him while he cried. He was still having those nightmares when I had left eight years later, just not as frequently.

His brother, Andrew, died when Jasper and I were fourteen; Andrew was eighteen and on his way to some friend's house in another state. He had gone by train, as the tickets were cheaper than flying, and no one had an extra car for him to use. The train had derailed and Andrew had died instantly. I was sad about it, too, because Andrew was like the big, goofy older brother I'd never had. He was tall – taller than Jasper – and he was funnier than anyone I had ever met. He used to pick on me or make funny faces or let me spray his light brown hair bright green; I told him it matched his eyes.

Charlie had helped with all the arrangements, as Helen and John were just too distraught about losing their oldest child. Jasper had felt suffocated by his parents after Andrew had died, because he was the only child they had left. They didn't let him go anywhere for the longest time, and Jasper constantly had me around. I had felt a little suffocated, too, because Helen and John had kind of clung to me as well. Jasper told me it was because they saw me as their daughter, which was okay, because I saw them as my second set of parents.

Apart from Jasper, I missed Helen almost as much as I missed Charlie. Helen was Mom, plain and simple. She'd cared for me when I was sick and Charlie was at work. She had taken me shopping for bras and explained to me what a period was and how to use pads and tampons. She'd spent weekends just with me, doing our nails and hair and going shopping for dresses. Helen let me cry and cry and cry when Edward and I would fight over something stupid, and she'd be the one to tell me it would all work out. She would introduce me to people as her daughter, and I would beam with pride, glad to have such a cool surrogate mom. I always told everyone that whereas Renée was my mother, Helen was my mommy.

Things changed a little when Jasper started dating Alice. Alice was my best friend, girl-wise, and I used to think she was the prettiest thing I had ever seen. She had short dark hair and even darker eyes. She was short with a dancer's body, and I was very unsurprised when they started dating in the eighth grade. I thought it was kind of funny, really, seeing them together – tall and short, muscular and petite, light and dark, quiet and loud. They were perfect opposites and everyone thought they'd be married right out of high school. They would have been, as Jasper had proposed to Alice at graduation, but only six months later, _everything_ changed.

I'd met Edward his first day of sophomore year. His family had just moved to Forks, and I was the first person to pounce at the chance to welcome the new kid. Only two weeks in, he'd asked me out, and I gladly accepted. Jasper was skeptical at first, telling me that no guy that fake-sweet could be suitable for me. I had rolled my eyes and told him to mind his own business. I hadn't realized that Edward wasn't as sweet on the inside until much later, but it was already too late; I was in too deep to take off my rose-colored glasses. By the time we all hit junior year, we were an inseparable foursome, Jasper and I being the strongest link in the chain.

Helen had disapproved of Alice staying over, screeching at both Jasper and I when we asked. I asked why _I_ was allowed to stay and Alice wasn't, but Mom didn't answer, she just pursed her lips and shook her head. Jasper and I had shrugged it off and continued on with our brother/sister routines. Alice and Edward didn't like the fact that Jasper and I spent nights together, but we shrugged them off, too, telling them it was take both or take none at all. Edward used to get so mad at me when I told him I would chose Jasper over him if he made me, but I still stopped staying over at Jasper's so much after that.

Helen and I had helped Jasper pick out the engagement ring for Alice, but Mom didn't seem too into it. I had asked her, later that night, why she didn't seem as enthusiastic as Jazz and I, but she just said she was sad to see her only son drifting into manhood and that I was growing up and soon enough I'd be getting married, too. I had smiled and hugged her, telling her that we weren't going anywhere, even if Jasper and I married other people and went off to college – which we were in the process of planning at that point.

Jasper and I were supposed to meet Alice and Edward at the park just outside of town, but we got bored and decided to just go pick up Alice early. We got into his car, chatting happily about which college we would attend, but we both went silent as we arrived outside Alice's house; Edward's car was in the driveway. My heart raced and Jasper and I stared at each other for a moment, both of us confused. I took out my cell phone to call one of them, but Jazz took it from me. A determined, hard look took over his features and he got out of the car, telling me to stay put. I ignored him, of course.

I was hot on his heels as he stalked up the front pathway, up the stairs to the porch, and then right through the door, not even bothering to knock. I ran into his back as he skidded to a halt in the foyer, but he didn't even seem to notice. I looked around him into the living room, and my hand went to my mouth to stifle the scream I felt rising in my throat. There were Edward and Alice, naked and having sex on the flower-patterned couch in the quaint living room. I just stood there, not able to move, but Jasper snapped.

He had ploughed into the living room and grabbed Edward by the shoulder, throwing him off Alice with a force I didn't think he had in him. I watched in shock as Edward and Alice scrambled to their feet, grabbing their clothes and trying to cover themselves. Edward finally looked past Jasper, at me, and he looked terrified. He'd made to move toward me, but Jasper shoved him, and Edward landed on the ground.

"I want my ring back," Jasper said through gritted teeth, turning to Alice. "Now."

Alice shook from head to toe, but took off the beautiful platinum ring with a large, solitary diamond, and put it into Jasper's open hand.

"Bella," Edward gasped from the floor, "it's not… it's not what it looks like."

Jasper laughed humorlessly. "Fuck you, man," he said, and I was glad he was answering for me, because I had no words. "It's kind of hard to miss what the fuck is going on. You two are fucking, we got that. I speak for both Bella and myself – fuck off, and we never want to see either of you again."

I shook my head, still not comprehending what was going on.

"You can't speak for her," Edward said indignantly.

I nodded my head, agreeing with Jasper, not Edward.

"Yes, I can," Jasper said evenly. "And if that's not what she wants, that's tough, because you won't be coming within a hundred feet of her… _ever_."

I blinked a few times, my hand still over my mouth.

"Oh, please, Jasper," Alice said, seeming to have finally found her voice, "you two have been fucking for years. It's kind of obvious, _hunny_. Bella's nothing but a little _whore_. I wouldn't be surprised. She slept with Edward after only a month, and that stupid guy back in freshmen year."

Now, I don't think Jasper would ever hit a woman, but I think that was the closest he'd ever come. His hands balled into fists and he walked so he was directly in front of Alice, and she looked as terrified as Edward had.

"Don't… you… _ever_… say… that… about… Bella," Jasper ground out, and I saw his body shake with anger.

"Jasper," I whispered, worried he'd do something stupid.

"Just a minute," he said, not looking at me. "Now, not that you two deserve this, but just to set shit straight, Bella and I have never had anything but a completely platonic relationship. Bella has been with two men, unlike you, Alice. How many people did you sleep with when we broke up for a few months? Five? Six? Perhaps more?"

"That's bullshit!" Alice screeched.

Jasper shrugged. "Doesn't matter anymore," he said, his voice mock-calm. "What you two have been doing is unforgivable. Now, if you will excuse us."

I couldn't help but admire Jasper's ability to still be polite, even though I knew he probably wanted nothing more than to kill one or both of them. I didn't realize I was shaking until Jasper walked up to me and grabbed my upper arms, and I couldn't quite meet his eyes. He sighed sadly and hunched down before picking me up bridal-style and carrying me back to the car. I didn't cry until we got back to his house. He had carried me into 'my room' and just sat on the bed, cradling me.

"I'm so sorry," Jasper had whispered.

I realized that he was going through the same pain I was, perhaps even worse, and I lost it; I cried and cried and cried, for both of us. Jasper rocked me as I cried, but he only lasted a few minutes more, and then I felt his body shuddering with sobs. Helen came home an hour later to find both of us still shaking, but laying on the bed, our arms and legs tangled together. I squeaked out what had happened and she climbed into the bed, untangling our limbs and inserting herself between us.

"Shh, my babies, it'll be alright," she whispered, putting an arm beneath both our heads and drawing us closer to her.

Jasper and I clung to his mom, neither of us caring about the fact that we were both full grown adults. We hurt. We needed her, and she was there. My arm met Jasper's across her stomach and we reached for each other, molding ourselves closer to Helen in order to do so. We all laid there for hours and hours, until we were all out of tears. Helen kissed both our heads before climbing out of the bed, mumbling something about dinner and wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. Jasper and I held each other for the next few days, neither of us saying a word. I was thankful that Charlie didn't come to get me until a few days later and that Helen just quietly put meals on the side table, kissing our heads and then going back downstairs.

It was two years later that Jasper called me to come over as soon as possible. I had rushed over, worried by the tone in his voice. The moment I ran through the front door, I knew something was wrong. John was the only one in the living room, and he stood when I entered. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out. Tears pooled in his eyes and I suddenly understood – Charlie was dead. John had caught me as my knees gave out, the realization making me want to die, too. I didn't cry until Jasper walked in, and then I sobbed so hard I choked again and again.

Jasper held me, and I screamed every time I thought he was pulling back. Jasper would double his hold on me, his body shaking with quiet sobs, but I didn't really pay that any mind. I had felt as though my whole world was falling apart, and I was counting on Jasper to hold it together by holding me. Neither Helen nor John touched me, because I only cried harder when they did, and I think they worried about my breathing. I went in and out of consciousness for the next few days, Jasper never once leaving my side other than bathroom breaks. I had brokenly given my consent for Helen and John and the department to take care of funeral arrangements. I hadn't given a damn about the flowers, or the casket, or the music… all I knew was that it didn't make a difference, because none of it would bring my dad back.

Jasper all but carried me through the service and the burial, as I couldn't even see straight. I begged him not to leave my side, but he did, in order to give the eulogy I wasn't able to. Helen took Jasper's place beside me, pulling me tightly against her side as Jasper approached the pulpit. His hands shook as he took a folded piece of paper out of his suit jacket. He cleared his throat and proceeded to read out his speech.

"Charlie Swan was a man of honor, a decorated police chief, a dedicated friend, and a loving father." Jasper cleared his throat. "As most of you know, Charlie was my father's best friend and my best friend's father, but he was also a father to me. I've called him 'Dad' since I can remember, honestly, because that's what he was to me. He was always so kind, never once turning me down when I needed to talk. He made it a point to tell me he loved me when I'd leave the house, always pulling me into that big hug that made you feel so comforted no matter what you were going through. When my brother died, Charlie was there for my family, making sure we ate and the arrangements were taken care of. I've never told anyone this, but he came up to my room a few days later and just hugged me."

Jasper's voice broke and tears began to stream down his face and I wanted nothing more than to run up there and hold him as he continued.

"He didn't say anything, he just let me cry and cry," Jasper said, his voice low and full of pain. "My family was mourning the loss of my brother, and even though I had Bella, there was just something about the fatherly feel he exuded that left me feeling alright for awhile. I've always wondered what it would be like to get that officer at my door, telling me something happened to my father. I didn't expect it to hurt this much, to know that I'll never see that crinkle-eyed smile again on the face of my secondary father. Bella… Bella wanted me to make sure I mentioned his love for fishing, because he'd be pissed if someone didn't."

The people in the church had laughed quietly, me included.

"He was a fisherman, we all know that," he said quietly. "He always had the best fish fries in town, and he wasn't afraid to share. I think my favorite memory of Charlie was when he took Bella and me out fishing when we were about ten. It was a complete disaster, honestly. Bella fell out of the boat just as I hooked into a fish, and he actually jumped out of the boat to keep Bella above water while shouting instructions at me to get the fish in the boat. What I thought was the best was that Bella had on a lifejacket, so she was in no real danger, but that just showed me what a good father he was. If anyone has been in Charlie's house, the first thing you'd see is a few family pictures, and the tiny fish I caught mounted on the wall.

"Bella wanted me to make sure I told all of you what a wonderful father he was," Jasper said, tears falling heavily down his face. "I can tell you from personal experience that Charlie might have been quiet, but he was always there when someone needed him. He was sweet, loving, and cared about nothing more than making sure everyone was safe. He died trying to do that, and I commend him, from the bottom of my heart, for trying to make our little town a better place. Charlie, if you can hear me, we all appreciate the astounding, dedicated work you did, and… and we'll always miss you… and… I l-love you…D-Dad."

John had hurried onto the stage as Jasper broke down completely, his hands covering his face, his tears soaking through his speech. I openly sobbed as I saw Jasper's knees weaken, and I rushed to the stage too, wanting nothing more than to wrap my arms around Jasper. John, Jasper and I stumbled a little off the platform and back to our seats, where we sat crying for the rest of the service. Jasper pulled it together by the time we went the grave site, but I didn't. Nor did I ever really pull it together.

The next few weeks were the worst, and Jasper never once left my side. Things evened out a little, but I couldn't stand living in the house, so I stayed in my room at Jasper's. Just a little over a year later, I still wasn't feeling much better, and I made the drastic decision to move. At first I thought about moving to Phoenix, to be by my mother, but I was still angry at her for not even showing up to Charlie's funeral. Every time I looked at Jasper, I just pictured him giving that speech, or the things he said when we caught Edward and Alice. It all came to a breaking point and I announced I was selling the old house and moving.

Helen and Jasper had helped me pack when I decided to move; they cried the whole time, but never once asked me to stay, just like I had asked them. Helen told me that she loved me, that I was the daughter any mom could ask for, and it broke my heart to get into my car and drive away, her just standing there in the driveway, Jasper hugging her as they both cried. I suddenly realized I was the worst daughter on the entire planet – leaving the one woman who had loved me fully and unconditionally behind without so much as a phone call to tell her I'd gotten to Seattle in one piece.

"Hey," Jasper whispered, "what's wrong?"

I sniffled and cleared my throat. "I'm sorry," I whispered, closing my eyes to keep more tears from falling out and onto his chest.

"Shh," he murmured, kissing my hair. "Don't cry, Bella. Tell me what's wrong."

"I miss Mom," I said, my voice catching as a sob choked me.

"She misses you too, hunny," he said comfortingly, and I was unsurprised that he knew I was talking about Helen.

"Can we go see her?" I asked through my sobs.

"Right now?" he asked.

I nodded. "I really, really want to see her," I cried.

"Okay, baby, okay," he said, closing both arms around my shuddering frame, holding me closer. "Let's get dressed and I'll drive, alright?"

I nodded again. "Okay," I whispered.

My heart hurt. I was suddenly slammed in the chest with a horrible need to feel Helen's slim arms around me, hugging me like only a mother could. For years and years I had shoved the Whitlocks out of my head, going so far as to even stash all of my pictures and mementos of the many things that reminded me of any of them in a storage unit twenty miles from my apartment. There was only once that I allowed myself to curl into a ball on my couch and sob, letting my brain replay all of the wonderful memories of Helen and John and Jasper and Andrew. Helen had called on my twenty-fifth birthday, three years after I had moved, and left a message on my cell phone, and I could barely hear what she said because she was crying so hard.

"Hi, Bella, it's Mom… I mean, Helen Whitlock," the message said. "I… I just wanted to call… and… and tell you h-happy birthday. I know… I kn-know I promised I wouldn't c-call you, but I just… I m-m-miss you. Jazzy and I made you a c-cake, the choc-chocolate one, just… just in case you decided to come h-home. C-c-call me back if… if you want to… talk or… if you n-need anything. I l-love you, B-Bella."

I had called into work the next day, having not slept and still crying.

"Come on, Bella," Jasper whispered, his arms loosening.

"I'm sorry," I sobbed.

Jasper kissed my forehead. "Alright," he said quietly, "I'll get dressed, and then I'll dress you, and then we'll leave, okay?"

"Okay," I squeaked out.

It only took Jasper twenty minutes to pry himself out of my death grip and get dressed before he gently dressed me, too. He basically carried me to his car, as I was still crying, and he tucked me into the passenger seat before running to his side of the car. We were only an hour in when the horrifying realization that we were headed back to Forks struck me hard. I hyperventilated for a minute, but then Jasper grabbed my hand and shushed me quietly, whispering calming things. There was nothing Jasper could do to calm me as we passed into the city limits, though.

"Welcome home, Bella," Jasper said quietly.

_A/N – Please take just take a moment out to review – I really do appreciate it._


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